


In the twilight of my life, darkness spread her legs for me

by lily rose (annabeth)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Breathplay, Canon Het Relationship, Canon character already dead, Choking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Het, Implied/Referenced Incest, Violent Sex, powers!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8453029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/lily%20rose
Summary: Sam is overcome by desolation and despair, and Ruby knows just what to do about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this in November of 2008 to my livejournal. Reposting it here because I really loved this fic and I wanna share.
> 
> Please heed the warnings. The sex is REALLY violent sometimes and Sam isn't always totally in control of himself.
> 
> Also, it's really only implied wincest if you squint really hard.
> 
> This is a season-four based fic, basically canon compliant. References the first time Sam and Ruby had sex on camera and takes it farther.

Ruby's bleeding. 

He remembers her blood, vividly. He remembers raking his nails down her back, touching her lips with his teeth. 

He remembers taking and taking from her, everything. Just a pale shadow of what he couldn't have any longer. 

His eyes cut away from her. Focus on Dean. He can't stand the sight of her blood. 

\--//--

_Is it because it's so_ wrong, _and_ bad _and_ dirty? Her breath is soft on his face, hot. Her body is supple against his. Soft, and hot. Her lips part and she drags them against his, and it's all he can do not to-- 

But he can't help himself. He grabs her skull, dwarfing her in his hands, and holds her still for his mouth. Holds her until she can't move, then slides his hands down, revelling in the feel of her hair. The softness of her mouth, hot against his. 

When he lifts her up, when he fucks deep into her body, he can almost forget that Dean's gone. 

\--//--

It was only supposed to be that one time. He never intended to touch her that way. Never planned to repeat the experience. Never expected to find himself on his back, her thighs against him, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him. 

He grabs her waist, clenching his fingers, feeling her skin compress. Jerks her up, then back down, onto his cock. 

Even on top, she's not in control. Even on top, she's at his mercy, cock unforgiving inside her. 

He hangs on tighter. She's meant to bruise. If he's gotta fuck her and not... then she ought to bruise. 

Sam closes his eyes and breathes in the stinging scent of sex. 

\--//--

_You don't have to pay for it,_ she says. Stands up, all sinuous curves, draws her hands down her body. Her bra comes off, then her thong. In the firelight, her body is splashed with shadows like lace. Enticing. 

He could've had anyone. He could've gone out, picked up a girl. Like... like _Dean_. But she's here. She's willing enough. 

Ruby likes Sam. He doesn't know why. He's not done anything worth making him likable. 

But Ruby fucks him. And Sam... Sam can't figure it out. He gets up, looms over her until her back hits the wall. 

He yanks up her leg, fingertips digging sharp into her thigh, settles her leg 'round his waist. His cock juts out, and she's got secret wet hollows to her body. Made to complement his body. He guides inside, and her mouth opens, a lilting gasp escapes. 

He tastes her in the air. Somehow, that almost makes it all right. 

\--//--

_You don't have to pay for it,_ she'd said, and Sam's spent days trying to figure that out. She trains him, and he takes the fruit of her body, fucks her stupid with his fingertips leaving aching bruises in her skin. 

She could heal them. She told him, once, that given a little bit of time, she can knit skin together. Set broken bones. Ease away a bruise. But she likes them. 

She likes them, and sometimes, when she catches him staring, she presses down. Watches the way his body responds at her hiss of pain. 

Sometimes, he kisses her. Not just her lips, but her skin. Sometimes, he feels it way, way down inside, as he circles his tongue around discoloured flesh. 

Sometimes, he closes his eyes. Sometimes he lets his imagination take over. 

In the dark, her voice is husky, her body musky promise. 

It ought to feel, taste, _come_ more different than it is. 

\--//--

The Impala is Dean's space. Used to be sacred, untouchable. But Ruby's wild with laughter. Crazy with his success. Sam's exorcised his first powerful demon, and even the headache's a relief. It's hardly more than a throbbing in time with his cock, as he grinds his palms down onto her shoulders. 

She's half-aroused already. Smiling and eyes dark, and Sam doesn't _mean_ to do it. Kiss her lush lips. Flatten her against the back of the bench seat. 

It's the worst kind of betrayal. And yet. Sam's not even sure that's the truth. 

He holds her tongue in his mouth, wonders what Dean would think. 

If Dean would be angry about the Impala, or angrier about the demon. 

She unzips his jeans, squirms out of her own. 

She's elastic and warm, damp around his cock when she climbs onto his lap. 

Sam doesn't have to think. The headache makes him feel crazy-wild too. 

Like he can do anything. Like he can fuck Ruby and get away with it. 

Like maybe, some day, he can save Dean. 

\--//--

Ruby's blood is shining on his lips. He's looking at himself in the mirror of her eyes, black. Black as pitch and yet more reflective than silver. 

She writhes underneath him, fingernails against the indentations of his ribs. Tongue glistening and pink against her lips. 

She doesn't have to speak. It's an invitation, clearer than any he's ever seen. 

This is the first time she's gone demon while they fuck. Usually keeps it battened down, like she knows it might freak Sam out. 

He knows he broke the skin, knows she can taste her own blood in her mouth. 

There's no real excuse to be rough, but he slides in heavy and unrelenting. Forces her body to accept the intrusion, no matter how violent. 

She raises her hips to meet him, though. Sucks on her lower lip, and when it slips back out of her mouth, the print of his teeth is prominent. 

It doesn't freak Sam out. This is no different than if Dean... He's not going to be prejudiced. 

When Dean gets back, if Dean is a demon, then all this practise will have been worth it. 

He drives her pelvis deep into the mattress with the weight and strength of his hips. 

She makes a low rumbling sound. He reaches up, snakes a hand around her throat. Squeezes. 

Her eyes stay black. Her bottom lip continues to leak blood. 

He's careful. Wouldn't do to choke her to death. 

But his cock aches in the sheath of her dampened inner walls. 

He forgets, strangles her into unconsciouness. 

She doesn't die. 

He can't forget why. 

\--//--

He feels guilty. No matter what she says, he has no excuse. He could've easily... could've lost control with someone _real_. 

It makes the pit of his stomach oil-slick. Numbing, visceral guilt. Can't forget what he did. 

She tries to reassure him. Takes off her clothes and tries to excite him. Tries to bring him off with slender fingers and crimson fingernails. 

It's not that he doesn't get off. It's just that he can't enjoy it. Keeps his eyes closed and remembers what it was like, that first time. When he could've pled temporary insanity. When he could've had an excuse -- _grief'll make a person do strange things._

But even drowning at the bottom of a bottle doesn't help. 

_You need to snap the fuck out of it,_ she shouts, standing naked in front of him. 

He doesn't notice her body. Doesn't see the way the tips of her breasts turn up. 

_You can't fight Lilith like this,_ she cries. _Guilt is just a slow suicide._

He unfolds, stalks over to her. He says something, words lost to the rushing in his ears. 

She's not afraid of him, no matter that he's got ten inches on her. Why should she be? 

He could kill her with his abilities, that much is true. 

But she knows he won't. 

She's got him by the balls, and he doesn't even mind it. Doesn't care that when it comes to her, he's castrated. 

Not so much that he won't still fuck her though. 

She's still naked, hair curling over her shoulders, dripping from her shower. 

He wraps some of it around his fingers, forms a fist. Tugs on it till she comes closer. 

He embraces her, one arm around her naked back. It brings back memories, not all of them sweet. 

In fact, most of them are bitter. _Demon,_ Dean whispers in his brain. 

Sam thinks maybe he can still feel it. Still touch Dean if he just _tries -- hard -- enough._

He presses his hands into her so hard tears flood her eyes. But she doesn't protest. She links her arms around his neck, goes up on her tiptoes. 

He makes her bleed, again. This time his cock draws away bloody. 

It's not the first time he's come away from sex bloody and guilty. 

It should be something he's ashamed of. It should matter to him. 

It doesn't. 

\--//--

He rends her with his teeth and his nails. He fills her up with his cock, fills her with his come. 

She's got gravel pitted in her skin. Got dust and road-dirt in the creases of her pelvis. 

He's got his jeans open, his t-shirt soaked with sweat, but _he's_ dressed. 

She's not, lying in the middle of an abandoned road. 

She arches her back, clutches at his shoulders. The gravel's left little red pinpricks all over her flesh. 

He dips deeper into her. Can feel his throat convulse. It's only a matter of time. 

It's just temporary, and she knows it. She's gotta know it. 

_Can you help me save Dean?_

No. 

Even if she can't. Even if. She still feels good, warm. Tastes like a vow. 

Dean wouldn't understand. Sam knows it. But he can't stop the inward press of his cock. The clinging withdrawal. Can't, won't, doesn't want to. 

_Go on, do it,_ she whispers. 

He closes his eyes. Sinks into her body. Concentrates hard, and he can feel her skin quiver under his. She's taught him how to do other things. 

She trusts him. She lets him get close, even with powers that could kill her. She trusts him, even though-- 

She shouldn't. 

This time the fingers around her throat are psychic constraints. 

He doesn't even have to think about it to compress her windpipe. 

Doesn't have to try. He listens for the whistle, the wheeze, and when it comes, he opens his eyes. 

There are so many levels of wrong to this. 

Dean might never forgive. 

But Sam knows he will. 

\--//--

Her body is littered with bruises, with the tattoo of his teeth. She touches each one, smiles when his cock jerks against his belly. Leaves phrases of precome on his skin. 

If he closes his eyes, he can still see her blood. And when he opens them, she's still smiling. 

She's given everything. Her tears, wet pearls on her skin; her body, soft and accepting; her blood, fat drops of pain; her feelings, keen and anguished in her stolen, broken body. 

He breaks her with his hands. He opens her up and takes her apart. Wants to know how she works. And when he puts her back together, it's always with her help. Always with her shining smile. 

Ruby trusts him. More than that, though. Ruby's in love with him. 

It's in the way she looks at him. The way she submits, the way she lets him wreak havoc on her body. 

Maybe she won't die if he takes it too far. Maybe she can't be broken permanently, or killed unless he really _wants_ to. 

But she's still giving too far. She's expecting that Sam won't ever lose control. _Accepting_ that he won't. 

He's taken and taken from her, everything. 

But when it's all said and done. When it's all over, she's gonna have nothing. 

He fucks her viciously against the hardwood floor. 

When it's all over, he knows he's not going to have eyes for this anymore. 

There's only so far he can take this. Only so much he can take. 

He knows, even in the dark. Can feel her breasts against his skin. Can feel the way she hugs his cock with smooth and wet. 

He knows. Knows that this is a placeholder for something irreplaceable. 

He feels her stretch up to meet him. 

He closes his eyes. A hand on her heart. 

She gasps underneath him. 

\--//--

Ruby's bleeding. 

This time, though, it's not Sam's fault. 

His eyes cut away from her, focus on Dean. 

She's still here, and he can feel her eyes on the back of his neck. Can smell her blood, her sweat. Her unease. 

Can still taste her in the back of his throat, like smog. 

He's guilty. There's no judge in any realm that wouldn't convict him. 

He's guilty of so much. Dean's face is carved in pain. 

Sam wants to reach out, touch. Wants to ease that pain. 

But he knows he can't. Knows that all he knows how to do, now, is cause it. 

Ruby's bleeding, and Sam can't block it out. 

He took and took from her, everything. She trusts him. Even for a demon, she loves him. 

But Sam-- 

Sam watches Dean, pins his gaze to the contusion on Dean's cheek from Uriel's fist. 

Dean gave and gave, everything, for Sam. 

Sam gave and gave just as much in return. 

Dean understood that. Sam didn't even need to explain. 

There's never going to be anything else. 

Behind them, Ruby keeps bleeding. 

End.


End file.
